


Whumptober 2020 Fics

by bearsub



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels), Original Work
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Dehumanization, Dehydration, Gags, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Obedience, Oxygen Deprivation, Psychological Torture, Shibari, Strangulation, Suspension, Tentacles, Torture, Whump, Whumptober 2020, demon tendrils?, obedience training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearsub/pseuds/bearsub
Summary: Based on the Whumptober 2020 prompts by the archive. Some days are combined, some are stand alone. Mix of Original content and fandom works. Tags, characters, and relationships will be updated as days are added. Please let me know if anything else should be tagged! Any nsfw parts will be explicitly labelled in the title and notes, along with any pairings or specific warnings
Kudos: 2
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Hanging in There

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober ficlet/drabble 1:  
> OC/D&D character: Rúnar  
> Prompts:  
> *No. 1: Let's Hang Out Sometime (Waking up Restrained, Shackled)  
> *No. 9: For the Greater Good ("Take Me Instead")  
> *No. 10: They Look So Pretty When They Bleed (Blood Loss)  
> TW: blood, dehydration, implied torture
> 
> "Was it normal to hear your own bloodflow? Or was he finally losing it?"

Was it normal to hear your own blood flow? 

Or was he finally losing it, finally losing his grip on reality?

Sound faded in and out of focus, intermingled with the weak beating of his heart and his labored breathing.

Muscles screamed as he shifted his arms, trying to find a section of his wrists that didn't feel like the shackles were digging into tendon and bone. It was almost impossible to do now, the skin rubbed tender and raw from the cursed iron. He settled for letting the weight of his body hang from a numb section of his wrists. A groan slipped past his lips, echoing against the freezing stone walls. The almost constant internal sound was getting louder, but through the rush of noise in his head he could make out one other noise- a steady, almost rhythmic drip.

He knew what it was, of course, how couldn't he? His own body was the source of any and all noise in that dungeon. A shiver wracked its way through his body, the harsh rattle of chains breaking the new rhythm as his hands tensed up. He tried not to wince, tried not to make a noise as a fresh stream of blood slowly trickled down his arm from the fresh cut on his wrist- curse these damned chains, he would never be free of their scars. The droplet skated its way down his arm languidly, running down his shoulder to join the mess of violet on his chest.

What irony, he mused, to be painted in such a beautiful colour for such a cruel reason? In his youth, visiting outsiders had complimented the violet hue his cheeks took when he was flustered. He hadn't seen himself since he'd been locked away, but he could imagine the iridescent purple that coated his chest and legs, the- normally warm- sticky fluid tarnishing his robes and making the fabric cling wetly to his body. That was the only 'wet' thing around, and that reminder made him swallow- well, attempt to.

How long had it been since he'd had any water? Well, a better question would be how long had he been down there? Being on the run for so long had given him time to atone for his crimes, but it also let the enemy learn about him, and they did their research well. For how cold the room was, it was impossibly dry. He could feel the cracked, bleeding skin of his gills every time he took a breath. The fragile scales around his fins, too, had cracked and peeled long ago. The pain was dull to him now, having been drowned out by the burn in his wrists, the searing pain in his legs. They were probably useless to him now, he realized with a twinge of sorrow.

Of course, would he ever have a use for them again? He had lost the dream of escaping long ago, lost it along with the ring they had torn out of his nose. If he had any tears to shed over pain, he had used them all that night. The wounds inflicted on his body he could forgive, he'd been hurt just as bad in his youth on the run. The deprivation of moisture he could forget, just picture that he was instead in the desert on another mission. But the loss of his nose ring? He would never be able to forgive himself, unable to look his husband in the eyes without it.

His husband… A flash of chestnut fur passed behind his eyes, the phantom warmth of breath against his gills and the softness of fur against his slowly fading fingers. He could practically hear the beast's rumbling laughter, hear the crackling fire in their modest cabin. A memory flitted through his brain, the last thing he saw before leaving home that final day. His husband, smiling through his mane as he held their small, precious calf in the kitchen. That's who he had to stay strong for, had to endure everything they threw at him. He could overcome anything they did to him as long as it kept his new family safe. 

A low creak filled his ears as the door opened, dim light flooding into the cellar. Footsteps clunked down the stairs, two- no, maybe three soldiers making their way down to him. Offering up a quick prayer and a silent promise to his love, Rúnar opened his eyes to face his tormentors. He would not break.

He couldn't.


	2. Welpe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Behave and I'll play nice~"
> 
> With difficulty, Solei managed to open his eyes, though they felt like lead. His vision was blurry, distorting the world around him. A groan left his lips as he tried to move his head; the pain from moving wasn't worth the effort right now. Everything was so out of focus: his sight, his thoughts, the feeling in his limbs- it was like he was floating in water. What did he do last night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober ficlet 2:  
> OC characters: Solei, Besitzer  
> Prompts:  
> *No. 2: In the Hands of the Enemy (Collars, Kidnapped)  
> *No. 11: Psych 101 (Struggling, crying)  
> TW: kidnapping, strangulation/oxygen deprivation, light/beginning dehumanization

_ "Behave, and I'll play nice." _

The words echoed through his head dimly, seemingly from nowhere. Was it a memory then? His brows furrowed as he tried to think, a searing pain shooting through his head at the action. Was that him whimpering? He couldn't quite tell, a numbness blanketing his body too well to feel anything other than the faint pressure against his back. It felt like something was holding his eyes shut, too tired to resist. Maybe he should just rest his cheek against the cool floor and…

Wait….. floor?

With difficulty, Solei managed to open his eyes, though they felt like lead. His vision was blurry, distorting the world around him. A groan left his lips as he tried to move his head; the pain from moving wasn't worth the effort right now. Everything was so out of focus: his sight, his thoughts, the feeling in his limbs- it was like he was floating in water. What did he do last night? He tried to think, tried to push past the haze clouding his mind. Last night….

_ There was a party at the local college he had been invited to. He wasn't big on that sort of thing, but he told his sister he'd join her. It was her first year in college, and he wanted to support his twin. She'd been having some trouble fitting in, but going to a party could be her chance to make friends. They were supposed to meet up at the park just a few blocks away from his apartment. He had dressed modestly, there was no need in dressing up for a frat party where everyone would be too drunk to actually notice.  _

_ He had left the apartment building with a spring in his step, breathing in the crisp autumn air. It was the best time of the year, he thought, and it made the walk that much more pleasant. Watching the dusk fade into night put a smile on his face, pushing out any reluctancy he had about the time. He made it to the park early, deciding to sit on the swings and wait. Breathing in deeply, he let out a sigh, eyes wandering up to the newly emerging moon. Somewhere behind him he could hear the crunch of leaves, images of a rabbit hopping back to its burrow. Letting his eyes slip shut, a soft smile crossed his face.  _

_ Deep inhale.  _

_ Slow exhale. _

_ The rustling was louder, a little closer. Worry flitted through his head for a moment, but he shoved it aside. This wasn't the city, there weren't creeps around every corner anymore. This far out in the rural area, he had to get used to hearing animals everywhere. Maybe it was an elk passing through? The thought helped his calm down, heart fluttering against his chest as he tried not to think about it. _

_ Slow inhale, long exhale. _

_ Slow inhale, long exhale. _

_ Deep breath in- _

_ His eyes shot open, a muffled scream trying to escape his lips as he struggled to take a breath. Something was clamped down on his face, smothering him. Unthinking, he struggled to get up, barely lifting off the seat of the swing before a burly arm trapped him against the owner's body. They were too strong, he couldn't move from the seat. His lungs screamed for air, burning in his chest as tears formed in his eyes. He tried to kick back, black creeping in from the edges of his vision as he tried to look around, eyes straining to see anyone who could help. A deep, gravelly voice whispered close to his ear. _

_ "Schlaf jetzt, Kleiner." _

The sound of a lock rattling from far away broke him out of thought, panting. A cold sweat had formed on his brow, chest heaving with the effort it took to scrounge up those memories. Footsteps could be heard faintly from above, moving back and forth between rooms, he assumed. His vision had finally cleared enough to see around him, but it didn't make things any better. He was lying on a cool concrete floor, facing into a dark room. Vaguely, he could make out the shape of what looked like a couch, maybe the leg of a table? He couldn't see the opposite wall at all, but it looked like there might be a rug spread out on the floor? All he could be sure of was that it wasn't his studio flat.

Seeing only made the situation feel that much more real, dispelled any fleeting hopes he had that it was just a bad dream and that he'd wake up from a drunken stupor on some fraternity couch, laughing it off with his sister as they left to get breakfast. His body shook, whether from cold or fear he couldn't tell. He still had his clothes, thank god, but there was a hole in his jeans and his shirt felt a little too breezy. What exactly happened? No matter how hard he tried, his brain wouldn't offer up any more information, just the throbbing behind his eyes that he couldn't believe he was starting to get used to. That realization terrified him, trembling hands finding purchase on the floor to push himself up. As he sat up, he felt a light pressure against his neck, confusing him for a moment before he heard the jingling  _ clink _ of metal.

The footsteps above him stopped. He froze, heart pounding against his chest as his lip quivered. There was silence, spanning for how long he didn't know. It could have been just a few seconds, maybe a minute, but it felt like hours passed as he waited. The footsteps started back up, and he let out a shuddering sigh- until the sound was coming closer. He could hear the heavy footfall approaching, pausing only to be replaced with the creak of a latch being undone and a door opening. Dim light crept into the room, stopping just inches from his hand. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Whoever it was had to have been purposefully going slow, trying to make him afraid. It was working.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

His lip quivered as he bit down on it, holding back a terrified whimper as his eyes wildly searched the darkness for the source of the sound. Was it coming from the front or his side? The sound echoed off the walls, confusing his already disoriented sense of direction.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

_ Twelve _ .

Harsh fluorescent light blinded him as the lights were flicked on, causing him to shut his eyes tightly and try to cover his face. A low chuckle filled his ears, the steady footfall returning as it moved closer. The man walked to his left, then his right, circling him as if inspecting potential livestock. Solei pressed his back against the wall, feeling the pressure against his neck return. He was…. wearing something? A sudden screech against the floor pierced his ears, making him flinch as he cowered against the wall. 

The clinking of metal filled his ears again, only for a short moment though as the source was made clear. He gagged, hacking out the breath he had been holding as he was yanked forward by the neck. A collar, he was wearing a collar. And the metal…. He opened his eyes, squinting in the harsh light to finally get a look at the man who had abducted him. 

The man sat straddling a chair, grinning down at him through shaggy hair. He held a chain loosely in his hands, tugging on it again. Solei was forced to crawl forward or fall on his face, choosing the less painful option of moving forward. The man's grin widened, the joy in his smile a stark contrast to the darkness in his eyes.

"Good morning,  _ Welpe. _ "


	3. This is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober fic 3:  
> OC BTD character: Cypress  
> Source character: Lucien Rire  
> Prompts:  
> *No. 3: My Way or The Highway (Manhandled, Forced to their knees)  
> *No. 21: I Don't Feel So Well (Chronic Pain)  
> TW: non-sexual shibari, gagged, dislocating bones (intentionally and unintentionally), obedience, general violence, obedience training, tentacles/tendrils
> 
> "Why couldn't he just be trusted? It's not like he had anywhere he could escape to anyhow. But he held his tongue, said nothing the first time he'd been tied up- if this was what it took to earn his trust he could live with it. He was a good boy."

It was a beautiful morning; winter was his favorite time of the year in this area. Around these parts the coldest it would get would be enough for a few flurries, maybe a light dusting of snow if they were lucky. Flurries drifted slowly to the ground, sunlight glistening off of them. He would smile, if he could. Blue eyes moved slowly from the window up to the ceiling, following the curve of rope that kept him suspended. How long has it been now? Two days, maybe three? With only two breaks to use the bathroom, and being alone for who knows how long since the last one, he was starting to get restless. 

But Cypress would never say that. He was a good boy.

His eyes trailed back to the window, having to crane his neck back a little to get the proper view he wanted. At first he had hated the suspension, hated the feeling of the rope pressing his clothes into his skin. Why couldn't he just be trusted? It's not like he had anywhere he could escape to anyhow. But he held his tongue, said nothing the first time he'd been tied up- if this was what it took to earn his trust he could live with it. He'd been left on the floor then, attached to the heater. That hadn't lasted for long, only a few hours before he was crying to be untied. His love had been annoyed, until they both saw the burns on his arms from the heater. 

A change of location was made, the next time left suspended in the living room. He'd stayed like that for almost an entire day, the rush of blood to his head pounding away at his consciousness until firm hands righted him whenever their owner came back. It was easier than the first time for the most part, but in the last few hours Rire had left him alone to deal with some business. No one was in the house when he shifted and his leg popped out of its joint. No one was there to hear him scream, to soothe the searing pain that etched itself into his brain as he hung, the weight of his body pulling against his leg only making it worse.

By the time his love had come back, he was sobbing with little care for whatever punishment awaited him. He cried out upon seeing the man, hands twisting in their binds in a fruitless attempt to reach out to him.  _ "S-Something's wrong! Rire, please, it hurts!" _ The sneer on the man's face lessened as the words sunk in, instead replaced with a pointed grin. The click of his shoes against the hardwood was less comforting than it had been before. 

_ "Is that so? Good, then perhaps this lesson will serve you well."  _ That smooth voice answered, one hand reaching down to caress his cheek. Cypress hiccupped, leaning into the touch as fresh tears left his eyes. In this position he could see under those tinted shades, searching the eyes he rarely saw for any sign of help, but he found no solace in their piercing yellow. The touch, as comforting as something so small as that was, was gone much too quickly as Rire strode across the room to his favorite armchair. He took a seat, legs crossed as he rested his chin on his hand. His sunglasses had slid down, slitted yellow peering over them at his suspended form. Cypress closed his eyes just for a moment, and in that space of time something happened to the ropes. His good leg was cut loose, a scream ripping its way out of his throat as his full body weight was left only to his wounded leg. 

_ "Let's see how long you'll last. Give me a show, darling." _

His leg had never healed right after that, constantly throbbing with a dull pain. But, it was okay. He was okay. It only really hurt if he walked on it too much, he could bear it. And his limp was getting better, much better than it had been initially after it healed. Taking care of himself became a little more difficult, and sometimes it was easier to just crawl or ask for help the rare times he was offered it, but he could manage. Besides, Rire promised not to tie him like that again, and he never broke a promise. He'd never go back on his word, he said so. 

Cypress blinked, broken from his thoughts as he heard the dulcet tones of humming coming from the hall. His eyes brightened, head snapping up too quickly. The muscles in his neck screamed at him, sore from being in such an odd position for so long. He rolled his neck slowly, wincing at the tug as he turned to look towards the hall- just in time to see his love open the door. He tried to smile, watching as the man stepped closer to the bed.

"Miss me, darling? My apologies, there's been much to do lately" Rire drawled out, petting his hair languidly. Cypress leaned into the touch as best he could, holding himself back from trying to speak. Speaking through the gag was bad manners, and he didn't want to upset him. Bad manners meant a lesson, and he didn't think his body could take much more of this. For his obedience he was granted a smile- it was rare to see them so genuine. "Let's get you down then. I'm sure you'd love to freshen up, wouldn't you?"

Cypress nodded, letting his eyes slide shut as he felt Rire press up against his back to reach the knots that connected him to the rig. The gag was gently removed from his mouth by one of the many tendrils that emerged from the form behind him. They worked quickly to undo the knots, rubbing tender skin once it was free from the rope. He relaxed back against his lover, kissing the tentacle that had freed his mouth. A low chuckle came from behind him, "Patience, little human. You've had plenty of time to wait, just a little longer won't hurt you."

"Missed you..." Cypress mumbled, eyes barely open as he nuzzled the black appendage. Regardless of Rire's words, it curled against his tan skin gratefully, making him smile. The man could be cold, he could be silent and controlling, he could punish him with a smile and berate him with those overly polite words, but he couldn't control the way his tendrils reacted. They always showed him a tenderness the man was only capable of at night. 

Finally freed, he turned and collapsed onto him with a sigh, arms wrapping around his neck to enjoy his warmth. One strong arm slid around his back, a comfort he was given more and more frequently. It felt like he was finally making progress, finally breaking down some of the walls the demon had put up to get into his heart. With more gentleness than he was expecting, he was carried from the bedroom to the bathroom, deposited on the edge of the tub with a tentacle to help him keep steady. 

He wrapped himself around the appendage, letting it curl around his body as he leaned against it. His eyes slid shut as he heard Rire start the bath, exhaustion and a dull ache settling into his bones as circulation was continuing to return to his limbs. The sound of his love humming was enough to occupy him though, smiling through the pain. It was rare that the man was in such a good mood, and he had to appreciate it while he could. Carefully, the tentacle lifted him, setting him into the warm bath water before retreating. Cypress blinked up at him, a low groan escaping his lips as the water soothed the ache in his bones.

"Relax, darling. Take your time whilst I prepare supper." Long fingers carded through his hair one, twice, bringing a smile to his face before the man disappeared. He sunk lower into the water, letting it envelope him with a quiet moan of content. Just down the hall he could hear Rire, moving around in the kitchen making who knows what. After that first dinner together, he had been wary, but Rire promised it was all human foods. There was no need to worry.

He emerged from the bathroom after some time- how long, he wasn't sure, but the water had started to get cold by the time he got out. Dressed in the shirt Rire had set out for him- one of his own button ups, the casual short sleeved one he wore on occasion in the summer months- he limped down the hall to the kitchen. With each step the pain in his injured leg grew, his limp getting more pronounced. By the time he made it to the warmth of the kitchen, he wanted to cry. But he couldn't- he wouldn't. That'd be bad manners.

Rire stood at the stove, preparing a plate when Cypress hugged him from behind. The taller man chuckled, glancing back at the redhead "Hungry, little one? I'm almost finished, so just wait a bit longer." He nuzzled into the man's back, mumbling into his vest. "Don't forget your manners, Cy. Speak up." 

"I… love you, Lucien…." 

The man froze, hand hovering over the counter. He set the plate down slowly, " _ Love… _ ? Is  _ that _ what you think this is?" he spat the word out, tone harsher than it had been in quite some time. Cypress clung to him, a squeak pulled from his lips as he was shoved away from the tentacles emerging from his back. One shot out towards him, wrapping around his waist and throwing him backwards.

Time seemed to slow down as he flew through the air, side smashing into the living room wall. All the air was pushed out of his lungs, left gasping for air as he tried to push himself up off the floor. His arms were pulled out from under him, wrists caught in the constantly tightening grip of those tendrils that so recently had comforted him. They dragged him across the floor, yanking him back towards the center of the room. His leg screamed at him, the joint shoved into the floor at such an angle he was afraid it would pop out again. His arms were pulled in opposite directions, straining the muscles. 

Rire approached him slowly, removing his sunglasses as he bared his teeth at the squirming boy. "Have you forgotten, mortal? You exist here for my amusement alone- nothing more, nothing less." His tone was firm, scathing to the already injured boy. Those tentacles wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing, crushing; he cried out in pain, pulling against them for any hint of relief. At the look he received he froze, realizing his mistake. 

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" he broke off with a scream, choking on his own words as his leg was ripped out of its socket again. The tendrils around his shoulders forced him to the ground, his knees slamming into the hardwood with a sickening sound. He curled inwards- tried to, atleast. A rough grip on his jaw redirected his focus upwards at the demon that controlled him. 

"It seems you need another lesson. You need to learn your place, human."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title based off of same named song by Air Traffic Controller  
> Rire is a character owned by the tumblr user @/darqx , featured in the game Boyfriend to Death. This source is nsfw so please exercise caution if you go looking for it and pay careful attention to the game's trigger warnings. Stay safe everyone <3


End file.
